


Comfort

by shiftycaptain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiftycaptain/pseuds/shiftycaptain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean keeps having nightmares of Hell.  Good thing he has his angel boyfriend to save the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

Dean woke up with a jolt of adrenaline. His heart was pounding, he was sweating all over, and he had a visceral sense that something was wrong. He took a few deep breaths and stared at the things in his room: the lamp on the side table, the framed picture of him and Sammy, Castiel's trenchcoat hanging on the door... Calming down was hard. He was irritated that his subconscious mind wouldn't let him let go of Hell. He flipped over to look at Cas, only to find an indented pillow and messy blankets; the angel wasn't there.

Dean got up, put on his bathrobe, and stumbled downstairs. The air smelled like coffee and cinnamon. Sam sat at the dining room table, frowning at his computer, coffee in hand. Cas was nestled into the right side of the couch, his favorite spot. He was wearing his headphones, probably listening to Dark Side of the Moon again, and lost in a book about spirituality. He had a notebook and pen, but was twirling the pen, not taking notes. Dean shook his head, but smiled. Even when Dean didn't understand Cas, he found him charming. Dean found a plate of pancakes in the kitchen. They smelled heavenly; upon closer inspection they had both cinnamon and chocolate chips.  
"Hey, Cas!" he called out.  
Cas looked up with a smile, but didn't take off the headphones. Dean pointed to the pancakes. Cas nodded.  
Dean took his pancakes and coffee to the dining table and moved a stack of papers to make room for his breakfast. Sam said, "Hey," made an annoyed sturgeon face, and moved them back. Dean moved them again. Sam made a bitch face.  
"Those are there for a reason," Sam hissed.  
"Dammit Sammy, this thing's called a dining table for a reason!"  
"I was here first, okay? I've been here since the butt crack o' dawn."  
"Why you gotta be such a nerd? Would it kill you to actually not work on your day off?"  
"We don't get days off, Dean."  
"We don't even have employers, Sam! We take a day off when we can...or else we go insane."  
"Does it ever occur to you that maybe other people like to spend their time differently?"  
"Not when you spend your time monopolizing the entire dining table."  
"You two are acting like children," Cas piped in.  
They continued.  
"Bitch."  
"Jerk."  
Dean was eating his breakfast and getting syrup on a folder labeled "American demon folklore 1800-1849." The pancakes were delicious. And okay, maybe he wasn't making an effort to keep the syrup off Sammy's papers.  
"The Crossroads Demon is mentioned in a lot of American folklore. I wonder how much of this is Crowley...that bastard. Look Dean, it says here that a demon approached two men in 1958 and said, 'Hello, boys.' Sound familiar?"  
"Huh," said Dean. He spaced out looking out the window. The elm trees, the lawn, and the fence looked the same, day in and day out. Dean couldn't tell if he found this disconcerting or comforting. A bluebird flew down to the birdfeeder that Castiel had insisted on getting. Dean sighed. He wished he could be that carefree and content, even for a moment.

Dean sat next to Cas on the couch. Cas took off his headphones and let them rest around his neck. "Good morning, Dean," he said, smiling.  
"Good morning, gorgeous."  
Cas blushed and the pen in his hand moved faster.   
They kissed briefly.  
"I was just reading up on Gnosticism and spirituality," he said cheerfully.  
Dean didn't understand Sam and Cas' enjoyment of learning. Sure, learning was fun, and it got the job done, but he didn't understand why they spent hours reading information, especially on days off.  
"That sounds like you," Dean said with a smile.  
After a long pause, he said, "You weren't in bed when I woke up."  
"No, I was...here."  
"Right...well, usually on our days off, you like to sleep in...and I was hoping we could, you know, cuddle."  
It was very unusual for Dean to ask for something, let alone utter the word "cuddle."  
Cas' face lit up. "Why didn't you say so?"  
He carefully took off his headphones, wound up the cord like a little hose, and put it on the side table with his mp3 player tucked in the middle. He put his book and notebook beside his headphones, against the couch. Such neatness was reserved for his beloved items.

Castiel got up and held out his hand. Dean took it. Cas gently led Dean upstairs and Dean let him. Dean was worried about appearing weak or vulnerable in front of Sam, but Sam was more interested in researching ghosts and demons. With Cas though, it was different. Cas had seen Dean at his absolute worst in Hell.

So, Dean had no problem taking off his bathrobe and shirt in front of Cas. Cas didn't take off anything; he kept on his entire suit. Dean startled a bit when Cas spoke.  
"Are you having nightmares again?"  
Dean rubbed his face. "They're not getting any better." He looked away. "They're haunting me...every fucking morning."  
Cas went into the bathroom and came back with water and aspirin. "For your headache."  
Dean stared. "How did you know?"  
"Lucky guess."  
Dean took the water and aspirin and looked at Cas like he was the most beautiful being he had ever seen--and indeed, he was.  
Dean and Cas climbed into their respective sides of the bed. There was nothing graceful about this; the bed squeaked and they both struggled with getting their bodies and blankets in exactly the right spots.  
Castiel got close to Dean and gently caressed his face and hair. He knew Dean had the guts to ask for cuddling or initiate it, but not both. He ran his fingers through his hair.  
"I'm fucked up, Cas," Dean said. "I'm really fucked up." His voice broke.  
Castiel quietly shushed Dean and held him close, Dean's head against his chest. Dean felt safe for the first time in a while.  
"God forgives you, Dean. It's about time you forgave yourself," he said simply.  
Dean sobbed quietly into his lover's shirt.  
Finally, Dean looked up at Cas with bloodshot eyes, his cheeks streaked with tears.  
"Really?" he said earnestly. Cas nodded.  
"You pretty angel," he said, "Why you gotta be so perfect?"  
"God made me,"  
Dean smiled and looked him over. "You've got way too many layers on for my liking." He winked.  
Cas realized Dean was flirting with him and wanted him to take his clothes off.  
"Oh..." Cas murmured as he looked down at his suit. He got up and took off his suit. He stood there in his 100% cotton boxers (which he said had the best texture in the world) and smiled down at Dean. Dean looked at Cas intensely, fiddling with the blanket between his fingers and moving his lips slightly. Cas looked at his beloved; he could see the freckles from when Dean had spent a lot of time outside in the hot sun, his anti-possession tattoo, the little wrinkles around his eyes, his beautiful eyelashes and well-defined muscles. Dean was perfect.  
Cas got back in bed. He touched Dean's arm and slid his hand onto the handprint. With his other hand, he touched Dean's chin and kissed him softly on the lips. Dean grabbed him and the two of them kissed some more, Dean's hands all over Cas and Cas' hands deep in Dean's hair.  
They parted, only to cuddle some more. Cas put his arm around Dean, caressed him, and held him close. His other hand found Dean's and their fingers slowly locked.  
Dean's hand explored up Castiel's arm. Cas' eyes closed and a little smile appeared on his lips."  
"You're warm," Cas murmured.  
"I've been held by a multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial intent for the past half-hour. Of course I'm warm," Dean said with a wink.  
Dean's hand wandered up Cas' arm with a tenderness Dean didn't know he was capable of, and Cas moaned as Dean gently caressed Cas' neck. Cas tilted his head. Dean buried his hand in the angel's hair and gently scratched his head.  
Castiel kicked slightly.  
"You like that, huh?"  
Cas sighed contentedly.  
"How would you like a back massage?"  
Cas nodded sleepily.  
Cas flipped onto his stomach, grunted, and stretched his arms and legs.  
Dean climbed on top of Cas. They both giggled because Dean sitting on Cas reminded them of last night. Dean massaged Cas, paying attention to all of the angel's beautiful (but stiff) muscles. Cas made happy noises and drooled a little on the pillow. Dean found this cute.

They spent the rest of the morning spooning, Dean holding Cas, their bodies touching from head to toe. Dean's morning had gotten a million times better, and he felt like the luckiest man in the world.  
Also it was fucking raining.

**Author's Note:**

> I basically wrote about self-soothing with my PTSD and stuff and turned it into a nice Destiel story.
> 
> This fic has nods to other Destiel fics on here with the pancakes and the bluebird.


End file.
